A Day in the Life of DS Samantha Nixon
by chicken160688
Summary: OneShot. The name says it all really. A day in the life of .......... DS Samantha Nixon.


A Day in the Life of ... Samantha Nixon

He stands before me, threatening me with a knife. What do I do?

I look around me. He has me trapped in an abandoned warehouse. But there's no obvious signs of escape.

"You tricked me!" I say. He had. He told me that she would be in here but she isn't. It was just an excuse to get me in here on my own with him.

"I had to. You wouldn't come to me." He tells me.

"Why do you want me here?" I asked him, I can tell that he can sense my fear. They always can, no matter how hard I try to cover it.

"You look scared Samantha. You shouldn't be. I won't hurt you as long as you do what I say."

"And what do you want me to do?" I ask. He takes a step closer towards me. I try to take one back but I am already pressed against the rough wall. He smiles when he sees that I am trapped. Trapped with him for him to do as he pleases, I tell myself.

He takes another step closer towards me. He sees me begin to tremble. I can't help it. Wouldn't anyone who was in my position do the same? But I am a police officer, I shouldn't be scared, I tell myself. I try a different tactic.

"You think that I care don't you. But I don't. To me you're just another case that I've solved." I tell him. He flinches but regains his composure.

"But you haven't solved this case yet have you? Therefore I am more to you." He smiles.

"Once you're in prison, you won't be anything to me. Just a name and a case number. I'll have forgotten all about you, and so will everyone else." I say. He advances forward towards me and grabs my arm. I flinch at his touch.

"Don't say that Samantha!" He shouts at me.

"You're right." I tell him, watching his hand movements. "Of course you're more. How can I ever forget you?"

"Don't try and be clever Samantha! I'm the one with the knife. I can decide whether you live or die. I could kill you ... just like that." He snapped his fingers.

"But you won't." I say softly. He looks at the ground. His hard exterior begins to crack. I've broken him once, but he had nothing then. He knew that the game was up. But now, thanks to a policing cock up, he is officially a free man, an innocent man. He won't let me break him again.

"You know, it was the darkest day of my life when you broke me. You were relentless, kept coming at me from every angle imaginable. You just wouldn't, couldn't let it go. You were like a terrior, foaming at the mouth at the mention of my name...And then when I was found not guilty, I remember seeing your face when the jury announced their verdict. You looked like you were gonna murder that stupid journalist. I thought that it was the happiest day of my life. You had messed up and I was free, I had gotten away with what I had done. I was free to carry on terrorising."

"But you don't terrorise do you? You want people to be scared of you. But they aren't. You're just the local weirdo who people laugh at. Kids follow you down the street and tease you. They aren't scared." I told him.

"You should be careful Samantha. You know what I am. I can destroy your life. You could use your personal experience in court." He smirks.

His hand reaches up to stroke my cheek. I freeze. I can't breathe. One sudden move and it will be over. He stares into my eyes and I feel compelled to stare back. He grins, he can see the effect that he has on me.

"I'm not totally evil Samantha. I hurt women but they deserve it."

"No woman deserves to be raped." I sneer.

"No you're wrong. Prostitutes deserve to be hurt. They're dirty and have to be cleansed."

"You can't justify what you do!" I tell him. "You do it for revenge."

"Yeah I do. My mum ...She was a prostitute. She ... entertained men. And I had to listen to it, listen to them using her. Listen to her screams when they as good as raped her." I saw tears in his eyes.

"Then why have you become the very thing you hated?"

"They have to learn their lesson. They complain that they get taken advantage of but they flaunt themselves for everyone to see. What's a man supposed to do?"

"Have you ever gone to a prostitute?" I ask him. I begin to sense that there is still more that I don't know about him. He doesn't answer.

"You have haven't you?"

"I only wanted to talk to her." He sobbed. "But she didn't want to talk. She wouldn't listen to me. She just wanted to earn her money and as quickly as possible."

"So you raped her!" I interrupted.

"I had too. She screamed at me to get on with it ... So I did."

"You're as bad as all the men that used your mum. You do exac ..." He interrupted

"Don't ever say that!" He shouted, interrupting me. He held the knife to my neck. I could see the rage and anger in his eyes. One hand held the knife, the other dropped down her arm, lingering. I can't stop him, his body is pressed against mine and I can barely move. I desperately look around, looking for something to help me, anything. He's speaking to me but I'm not listening. I have an idea.

I look at his face before kicking him hard. My heel making contact with his knee. He falls to the floor in pain, clutching his leg. He drops the knife and I kick it away. I try to run but he grabs my ankle and I fall. He regains his composure and tries to stand, dragging me with him. He sees me reach out for the knife that is lying nearby. He fights me to get to the knife first but he's too slow. I have the knife in my hand and he pulls his hands away from me. I stand and he backs away from me.

"You won't kill me Samantha." He says confidently. Despite this he still backs away from me.

"Self defence!" I tell him but he just laughs at me.

"You and me could have been good together." He tells me. "We could have gotten married and had kids."

"You're a rapist!" I tell him in disgust.

"But you could change me Sam." I shake my head. He looks at me sadly, I can hear people knocking, kicking at the door.

"It's over, you will go to prison this time." I tell him. I can't stop myself from crying. He too is crying as the door bursts open. People grab him and pull him away. I can't focus on what is happening. All I can see is Phil standing in front of me. I drop the knife and he kicks it away. I begin to cry harder and Phil pulls me into his arms. He leads me away outside. I see Kennedy being driven off in a police car, he smiles at me and I smile back. No matter what he's done, I still feel that there's a bond between us ...


End file.
